Feb 16, 2015 Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes, Teaching and Learning

What I wrote on Wednesday Feb. 11th, but didn’t post here until now:

On Leaving Public School Teaching

Tags: family comes first, following one's dream, life changes, On leaving public school, time for change

Jan 28, 2015 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes, Teaching and Learning

The First Big Snow Day — 2015

(What I posted on Facebook, and didn’t want to forget about)

©Jan. 27th, 2015

By Vijaya Sundaram

January 27th, 2015:
A lovely morning. Slow wake up. Black coffee, and fantastic pancakes made by my husband, who used candied lemon peel, apple, granola, blueberry pancake mix from Stonewall Kitchen, and maple syrup. Took Holly out to the backyard, where she went crazy.  There is nothing more satisfying and joyful than a standard poodle in the snow. She leaped around, rushed up and down, dug joyously, ate snow (not yellow!), and reminded me yet again that life is simply to be lived and enjoyed as long and as well as possible. Sat with S and did, of all things, geography. Capitals, states, facts, including Motor City and Motown music, which led us to listen to Al Green, Ann Peebles and Stevie Wonder. Diana Ross is next, plus a whole bunch of others. She now knows many capitals and all the states, and other related facts — all of which she soaks up at an astonishing rate. I LOVE being with my kid!
Now, it’s gnocchi time with delish sauce.
Bye, all! Stay safe and out of the snow, unless you’re enjoying it!

Later, that day:
After we studied geography together, S said to me, “I love it,” (referring to my teaching her), and added, “You’re a natural-born teacher.”
Feeling grateful that my child doesn’t mind her mother being her teacher.

Still later:
Inspired by a Facebook friend of mine, who said she made chai inspired by me, I am now going to make some chai too, before I go out and join my family on the snow-covered hill opposite our house.
If you’d like some chai, just sniff the aroma I’ll waft to all of you via FB. You can have some virtual chai, OR make your own: For four people, brew a thumb’s length of fresh ginger, six cardamom pods (crushed), cloves (three or four), black pepper (four whole peppers), a dash of cinnamon powder, or a stick of cinnamon together with two cups of water. When it comes to a boil, add black tea leaves or four black tea bags (take care to remove the tags), add two cups of milk and brown sugar or honey (two sugars for one cup, yes, that sweet), and boil the lot together for a minute. Strain it into four mugs. Voilà!

Still later:
Sledding, warm bath for frozen dog (who didn’t want to come in from being outside, but I forced her), hot chocolate with chillies and cinnamon made by hero husband (I idn’t make chai, after all — too late for that — will make it tomorrow), followed by cleanup of living room and kitchen, followed by guitar and singing in front of fire, followed by pizza with veggies, then ice cream, then several games of Set and Quirkle.
Feeling terribly fortunate and rather lazy now.
Tomorrow, I’ll go back to feeling guilty about the state of the world.

End of the day:
Can I say now (since I’m being so very public today about my happy day) that I love my family? And I love my husband, who has been loyal, supportive and loving to me all through our ups and downs in life together (even when I really didn’t deserve it), who has made us a lovely home, who is a beautiful father to our beloved daughter and also to our dog-ter, and who is a great musician, teacher and creative spirit, all at the same time. I remind myself of these things whenever I feel a passing grumpitude about silly things that pass me by like “an idle wind which I respect not.” Thank you, W!

Tags: Family time, Jan. 2015, Making Indian chai my way, music-making with family, Pancakes and gnocchi, Quirkle and Set, Sledding, Snow Day, Standard poodles and hot chocolate, Teaching and learning geography with my ten-year old

Jan 12, 2015 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes

Daughter

©January 12th, 2015

By Vijaya Sundaram

So, my daughter turned ten last Friday.

TEN years!

How did this happen?

First, a bump, then a baby, then, this person — this deep, deep soul who reads day in and day out, sings day in and day out, thinks profound thoughts about life and death, truth and falsehood, good and evil, and also plays with toys, plays on the playground, gives her unconditional love to her parents and friends, holds no grudges, forgives easily, thinks the best of others, and loves freely.  She, who was moved to tears by music at three months, moved to tears by poetry at 11 months, whose first sentence to me was “Pwe wea book!” (Please read book), who loved the taste of spicy South Indian Sambhar at 10 months, who began toddling about at 9 and 3/4 months, who stood patiently in line at airports from eighteen months (when we went on our mostly annual trips to India), who trusted and trusts me implicitly, looks to me for the truth, and I am honor-bound to give it always.

There’s more, dearest daughter, and I’ll write more, but for now, Happy Birthday, love, and may the world treat you well, and give you peace and love.  May you give back to the world.  May you know no hatred, hurt, or fanaticism.  May you keep that shining light of yours always lit, through loss and gain, laughter and pain, through learning, being and doing.  May music sustain you through times of tribulation, and may laughter bring you out of sorrow, if there be sorrow.  May your delight in the world, its beauty, its animals, its mystery and its people sustain you through everything until the end of time.

Love,

Mom

(Dreamer of Dreams)

Tags: #Birthday, #Daughter, the big Double Digit, turning ten

Jul 6, 2014 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Music, Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes

Walked with Hol in the morning. She was sedate and heeled well — a nice change from the crazy persona she projected yesterday.
Read aloud two beautifully illustrated and entrancingly written graphic novels (one based on Athena and the other on Poseidon) to S after lunch. She was instantly captivated, and re-read them by herself again and again. She’s been deep into Greek Mythology since I bought her a few wonderfully engaging books on it a couple of years ago. She remembers things I don’t. It’s amazing. Her favorite goddess are Athena, Artemis, Demeter, Hestia and Metis. And I think she fell in love with the Theseus shown in the Poseidon book. She rather likes, and feels sorry for, Poseidon’s Cyclops son, Polyphemus. She LOVED the three Fates show in the Athena book. Good taste!
Lots of planting in the evening. Very nice. Found a bunny in the garden, which appeared suddenly out of tall grasses, and sprang away into the hostas on the side. S helped with weeding.
Hol’s busy chewing on a water bottle. Got to rescue it.
Went up for a bit and listened to S practising guitar, improvising on a D minor scale, while Warren played the chords. Lovely! Holly listened to her, and then to us, when we sang a Beatles song together. She likes music, just as we all do.

Tags: #Dog, #Gardening, #Journal Entry, Family time with daughter, husband, Lazy Sunday

May 11, 2014 Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes

Repletion Mode — An Other’s Day Poem

©May 11th, 2014

By Vijaya Sundaram

Mother Day yawns

I lie in bed.

Birds unfold the day.

I lie in bed.

Sounds of household peeling.

I lie in bed.

Sunshine splintering.

I lie in bed.

Cup of coffee in husband’s hand.

Bounce of daughter and dog on bed.

I arise, a sea creature,

From torpid dreams.

Tiredness rears over me

I drown in enervation.

Yet, slowly, slowly,

Depletion mode gives way,

Slowly getting replete again,

Slowly, slowly now.

Oh, so slowly.

I sit up and hug my child.

It’s Other’s Day.

________________________________________________________________

Tags: #Daughter, #Dog, #Original Poetry, completion, husband, Mother's Day

Feb 16, 2014 Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes, Reading, Writing, Thinking

Post-Sled Languor
©2014, Vijaya Sundaram
February 16th, 2014

On my back, near my child,
Who is intent on packing snow,
I feel the rush of the earth
On her axis,
A spinning ballerina
En pointe.

Snow quiets someone’s heartbeat
(Mine? My daughter’s? The earth’s?)
Traffic rushes by, while I
Lie, staring at a pale sky,
With its light flurry of clouds.

And across my field of vision
Blank as I am, quiet as I am,
(But not quiet like death, not quite).
Slices an arrow, shot from an
Unseen bow, bent on its
Unknown goal, and the sky divides.

Silver, the airplane shoots across,
And I watch, blank as snow,
As the earth spins.

A flurry of thoughts
Moves across my mind,
I think (how could I not?)
Of the bow from which I
Was shot, and the end to which
I am headed, unknowing,
(for how can the arrow know, completely?).

But even that thought dies away,
As I lie on my back,
In the snow, gazing blankly
At a pale, pale, darkening sky,
While near me, my daughter
Makes a snow-fort.

______________________________________________________

Tags: #Mother and Daughter, #Original Poetry, arrows, destinations, earth's axis, looking up at the sky, post-sledding, snow-fort

Jan 25, 2014 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes

Meditations Upon Walking on Solid Water

©By Vijaya Sundaram

January 25, 2014

 I had never walked on water in my entire life.  Today, with quaking heart, I did. 

 It wasn’t too bad.  It was lovely, in fact.

To think that there was a pond filled with water which teemed with possible life, which would, in springtime and summertime, have ducks and geese, and frogs and fish, which now supported my weight, and sang it’s safe, it’s safe to my internally trembling self!

(I was fine on the outside, although I wanted to get on it, go across and back as quickly as possible.  For, despite all the assurances and reassurances by my husband, who said, “I grew up near a lake, don’t worry, this pond is frozen solid, look!” and jumped on it, all my cells shrieked, No!  It isn’t.  Don’t!)

My daughter, intrepid and impatient with me, said, “Come on, Mom!  It’s great!  See?  And she walked on ahead of me, following my husband.

I knew that she was anxious for me to enjoy it like she did.  So, I put on my brave face, and squared my timid shoulders, and did. 

Something interesting happened then.  I wasn’t afraid, anymore.  I put my trust in my husband and my child, and walked on solid water.  Ice is interesting.  It has personality.  It has stillness.  It is mysterious, a presence that could be either kind or cruel.  It was kind to us today.  No betrayals lurked beneath its opacity.

Then, we went back to the main trails in the woods where we were walking.  We walked in companionable silence punctured by occasional inconsequential chatter in the dark stillness of the night-time woods, lit by snow.  We heard the creaking of an occasional tree, as we wound our way up to the very top of the hill in the woods.

There we stood on snow-covered rocks, and looked down on the intermittent shoals of cars, exotic fish of gold and red streaming towards us and shimmering away from us on the highways far below.  The lights of the city gleamed jewelline in the winter night.  A faraway airplane took off, glittering into the sky, from the distant airport. 

Our daughter is a child of winter, and a child of these woods.  The woods are hers, that hilltop and its tower belong to her alone (also to us, by extension), and that pond we walked on has been part of her consciousness since she was about twenty-two months.  She gazed around and exclaimed over and over, “It’s so beautiful here, isn’t it?”  And she sighed and sat on a snow-covered rock, gazing into the night.  My husband and I murmured in agreement, as we stood and gazed out, eyes saturated with the lights of the night.

Permanence is an illusion, I know, but I like to think that these words and that pond are part of the permanence of her memories.  I want for us to build a universe of memories.  These will sustain her (and us) through what is sure to come in the future, because the future is always jealous of the present. 

And the present is our gift from the Lords of Time.

____________________________The End___________________________________

Tags: #Daughter, #Father, #Memories, family outing, illusion, mother, permanence, Time as thief, walking on a frozen pond, winter walk in snow-covered woods, woods at night

Jan 14, 2014 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Blogs and Bloggers, Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes, Reading, Writing, Thinking

Not Writing

A Sad Confession by Vijaya Sundaram

January 13th (or the 14th), 2014

This is a confession to nobody.

So, I missed writing yesterday (the 12th), and today (the 13th of January). Actually, now it’s officially the 14th, since it’s past midnight, but since I’m not in bed yet, it’s still the 13th!  So there, ye Gods of Time!  Take that and that and that!

So, shall I swallow strychnine?

Rend my garments and wail aloud in despair?

Toss in my lot with the “lotos-eaters?” (Yes, yes, I know it’s lotus, but Tennyson didn’t!)

Take up good works?

Live under a bridge?

Say, “writing is an indulgence,” and work in a prison?

Stare guiltily at my Facebook page, wondering how to never, ever, ever be screen-sucked again?

Grade papers?  (Naaaah!)

Go to bed?

Oh, yes, that.

Bed it shall be.

But I managed to write — sure, just this sad, lonely piece about being a bad person, who didn’t write on the 12th AND the 13th (but today’s still the13th until I actually retire to bed, remember?), but still, it’s writing (of a sort, anyway).

Besides, I’m tired.

I taught all day on my feet.

I led the Green Team in its spirited recycling efforts after school.

I read to my daughter.

Fixed dinner.

Practised (and that IS the right spelling of the verb form of the word) guitar.

Practised kathak.

Sang with husband and daughter, playing guitar again.

Surely, I can be forgiven for my lapses, ye Gods of Writing, and ye Gods Who Induce Unwanted Guilt-Feelings!

Well, that’s all for now.  I shall retire and nurse my sorrows in private.  Sleep will soon drown them out.  Then, the new day will begin, and the clockwork of my days will keep on moving, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, year by year, until I say, along with J. Alfred Prufrock, “I can hear the mermaids singing, each to each.  I do not think that they will sing to me.” 

Only in my dreams, tonight, I hope.

____________________________ The End ______________________________

Tags: excuses, guilt, lame excuses, not writing, the desertion of my muse for a couple of days

Jan 9, 2014 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries, Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes

A new person entered our lives.  She transformed us … into parents.  We haven’t been the same since.  Life has more richness, more depth, more beauty, more music, more love, more … dimensionality.

Below is what I wrote on my Facebook page:

_________________________________________________

So, today, our little girl turned nine!
It’s hard not to feel sentimental.
Also, a sense of amazement at how time shapes reality.
Nine years and a day ago, she wasn’t at our table.
I remember (in the days leading up to her birth) trying to imagine her in our lives, at our table, in our living room, playing with toys, making up stories, singing all over the house, reading, sprawled in various positions in her room or any other room.
I almost succeeded.
This is where imagination cannot match reality. Reality is a million times more beautiful and satisfying.
Happy Birthday, dearest S!
Poets have muses.
She is mine.

________________________________________________

I am grateful for her.  Thank you, Universe!

Dreamer of Dreams

Tags: #Daughter, #Love, #Mother and Daughter, birthdays, Gratitude, mother

Dec 10, 2013 Parenting/ Home-schooling / Family Music and other Notes, Teaching and Learning

Tags: #Original Poetry, a new jump-rope song, Ditty, light-hearted verse